by ich du
Eldain's eyes travelled to where the scout had indicated and saw their prize, the docks and shipyards for which Clar Karond was justly infamous. Ships filled the dark waters of the rocky bay that slowly widened until it emptied into the Sea of Malice. A warren of interlinked jetties and quays spread out into the water from the shoreline, each with great reaper bolt throwers on the seaward side, mighty war-machines capable of launching huge iron bolts that could pierce the hull of even the mightiest ship.
'What do you see?' asked the scout.
'Reavers mostly.' said Eldain, 'some sloops of war, a few reaper-ships and... and there's something beyond that mountain spur, but I can't quite see it.'
'Look again, my lord.' said the scout. 'That's no mountain.'
Eldain looked closer and the breath caught in his throat as he saw that what he had at first mistaken for a mountain spur of the bay was something else entirely.
'Asuryan's mercy!' he hissed as he saw that the scout spoke true.
This was no mountain... this colossus was one of the dreaded black arks.
A mountainous castle set adrift on the sea and held together by the most powerful enchantments, the black ark was a sinister floating fortress, tower upon tower, spire upon spire of living rock sundered from the isle of Ulthuan over five thousand years ago.
Crewed by an entire army, and dismal home to thousands of slaves, the black arks were the most feared and mightiest sea-going vessels in the world. Some said that the bulk they displayed above the surface of the water was but a fraction of their true size, with great vaulted caverns below the waterline that were home to terrible monsters, slaves and all manner of foul witchcraft. The truth of such things was beyond Eldain; all he knew was that the arks brought with them terror and death on a scale undreamt of.
Great chains, each link thicker than the trunk of a tree, looped from a cluster of towers at the prow of the black ark, curving down towards the impossibly huge draconic head of some monstrous and terrible sea beast that lay, half-submerged in the dark waters of the harbour. Even from here, Eldain could sense the powerful magic keeping the colossal beast docile while the black ark was berthed at Clar Karond.
Eldain heard someone behind him and turned to see Caelir low-crawling towards the lip of the ridge. His brother had almost reached Eldain before he had become aware of his presence, and he masked his jealousy of Caelir's talents with anger at his disobeying orders.
'Blood of Khaine!' swore Caelir. 'Is that a black ark?'
'What are you doing here, Caelir?' asked Eldain, ignoring his brother's question. 'I told you to wait with the rest of the warriors.'
Caelir waved his scarred hand dismissively. 'Our warriors do not need me to tell them how to prepare for battle. I wish to see the enemy for myself.'
'You will see them soon enough.' replied Eldain. 'And be careful what you wish for.'
'It will be good to avenge father.' said Caelir, staring fixedly at the spires of Clar Karond and the black ark. 'I have great vengeance to wreak upon them.'
'We both do.' said Eldain.
'Nothing is forgotten. Nothing is forgiven.' whispered Caelir, and Eldain recognised the words as those of Alith Anar, the Shadow King of the shattered kingdom of Nagarythe, a brutal ruler who had led the shadow warriors in the years following the Sundering.
'How will we come at them?' asked Caelir.
'From the north-east.' replied Eldain, pointing to the logging works. 'The shadow warriors will lead us around to the forested hills above where those slaves are working, and under cover of darkness we shall ride into the harbour, fire as many ships as we can and cause bloody mayhem before pulling back.'
'The druchii will pay in blood for what they have taken from me.' said Caelir, and Eldain saw that his brother unconsciously rubbed his scarred hand as he spoke.
Looking at the burned flesh of his brother's hand, Eldain remembered the day Caelir and Rhianna had ridden breathlessly through the portal of the family villa on the eastern slopes of the Annullii. Both had been badly hurt, but Caelir had seen them to safety, and delivered his warning of the druchii raiders, before collapsing.
The tale of how he had heroically defended Rhianna from the dark kin had spread quickly through the courts of Tor Elyr, and Caelir's reputation as a dashing hero was established.
No one thought to mention that it had been foolish of him to take Rhianna so high into the mountains and so close to the Eagle Gate. No, thought Eldain bitterly, to do so would have been to tarnish the heroic tale of Caelir the Protector. In the weeks that followed, he had watched as Caelir and Rhianna grew closer, powerless to prevent his brother from bewitching the woman he loved with his wayward charms.
'Come, brother.' snapped Eldain, turning and preparing to rejoin the rest of the warriors. 'We should get back. If we are to reach the northeastern slopes before nightfall, we must be away soon.'
Caelir simply nodded and crawled back with him, vaulting to his feet when they were safely out of sight below the ridge. Back with the rest of the high elven warriors, Eldain felt his spirits lift once more as he saw, by their proud and elegant features, that they were ready for battle. To have penetrated so far into the realm of the druchii was accomplishment enough, but they would achieve something that would show the dark kin what it was to live in fear of raiders from across the sea.
He issued his orders quickly and efficiently, and within minutes the band of warriors was on the move once more, stealthily riding around the eastern fringes of Clar Karond.
As the day wore on and the sun sank lower in the sky, Eldain thought of the coming raid and his brother's caution that it had been too long since he had fought in battle. True, it had been many years since he had wielded a blade, but the finest tutors had taught him, and he knew that when the blood was flowing and the thrill of battle was upon him, he would be as deadly as he had ever been.
A bruised dusk was drawing in as the scouts once again halted their progress and informed him that they were in position. He dismounted and drew his sword, dropping to his knees and reciting the vow of the sword masters.
'From the darkness I cry for you.
The tears you shed for us
are the blood of the elven kind.
O Isha,
here I stand
on the last shore,
a sword in my hand.
Ulthuan shall never fall!
Though he was not one of the legendary warriors of the White Tower of Hoeth, mystic guardians of knowledge and wisdom who were masters of the martial arts, the words gave him comfort and focused his concentration on the death yet to be dealt.
The sun continued to fall until the fearful darkness of Naggaroth began to encroach upon the world, and Eldain knew that it was time. The warriors around him began their preparations for battle, weaving iron cords into their long hair - symbolic of strength, power and nobility, the mark of a true warrior - to ensure that an enemy's blade would not cut it in the heat of battle.
Eldain prayed to the Emperor of the Heavens to guide his blade and watch over him this night, and though he knew there was soon to be blood on his hands, he asked forgiveness from the elven gods. His prayers went unanswered in the darkness, but he felt at peace and knew that his soul was ready for battle. His senses spread out and he could feel the breathing of his men, the harsh whinnies of their steeds and the tense anticipation that gripped them all.
No... not all. Around Caelir was nothing but a thirst for vengeance that burned brightly in the night. Eldain was not gifted with wizard sight, but even he could feel Caelir's aggressive soul. The spirit of Kurnous burned in his brother's breast, the elven god of the wild hunt, of untamed forests, wild animals and the trackless wilderness. Many in Ellyrion venerated Kurnous, as did their rustic kin across the ocean who dwelt beneath the boughs of Athel Loren, but the fire of the hunt was stronger in his brother than he could ever remember sensing in anyone before.
But beyond even his brother's desire for vengeance, he sensed something else. Som
ething crude to be sure, but something with a spirit burning brightly with fear and desperation.
And it was coming straight towards them.
From the primal vulgarity of the spirit, Eldain knew it must be of the race of man. He leapt to his feet, his spirit sight fading as the shadow warriors slid from their vantage points to intercept the threat.
Eldain sprinted towards his men and ordered them, with a gesture, to silently scatter. The Ellyrion reavers vanished into the forest, as Eldain crouched beside a tall, claw-branched tree and risked a glance through the dark forest. His elf-sight easily pierced the gloom and he saw a group of six naked and skeletally thin men running towards the forest, their flesh bruised and scarred from months in captivity.
Behind them, Eldain saw a host of armoured druchii riders on dark steeds, in pursuit of the escaped slaves. One loosed a flurry of bolts from a repeater crossbow and slew one of the escapees. The slaves were almost at the trees, but Eldain knew they would never reach them before the dark riders overtook them.
He saw the leader of the shadow warriors raise his bow and aim at the druchii who had fired his crossbow.
'No.' he whispered. 'Stay your hand. If we are discovered now, then all we have achieved so far is for nothing.'
The shadow warrior nodded and relaxed his bowstring, commanding his scouts to do the same with some unseen and unheard signal.
Eldain watched dispassionately as the druchii quickly surrounded the escaped slaves and, rather than herd them back to their work gangs, slaughtered them where they stood. Cruel laughter drifted from the scene of butchery as the druchii killed their prey and took their heads to mount upon their saddle horns.
Within moments it was over, and the druchii warriors were riding back towards their dark city with their bloody trophies. Eldain let out his breath, relieved the druchii had been too intent on bloodshed to notice the raiders not a hundred yards from them.
As the druchii departed, Caelir approached him and said, 'That was too close.'
'Indeed.' replied Eldain.
'We should have helped them.'
'Helped them?' asked Eldain. 'To what end? Would you take them back to Tor Elyr and have them for your servants? No, to die like that was probably easier for them than to go on living.'
'Perhaps.' said Caelir, 'but it sits ill with me that we just let them die.'
'They were only humans, Caelir.' said Eldain. 'Do not trouble yourself with them. Now get some rest, we move out within the hour.'
Caelir nodded and returned to his steed, and Eldain lay back against the tree, watching him go. Emotions warred within him and to calm himself before going into battle, he closed his eyes and thought of the last time he had spoken with Rhianna.
IV
ULTHUAN - Two Months Ago
LOTHERN. MOST MAGNIFICENT city of all Ulthuan.
Situated in the midst of the Straits of Lothern, it guarded the approaches to the Inner Sea of Ulthuan. Men who saw the city described it to their companions back home as one of the wonders of the world, and such a title was richly deserved. Principal city of the Kingdom of Eataine, Lothern was a sprawling city-state, the lands around it dotted with vineyards, villas and summer estates to which the noble families of the city retired. The centre of power of Eataine, it was rightly said that no one who ever laid eyes upon it would ever forget it.
Set around a glittering lagoon, the tall spires of Lothern ringed the coastline, sublime palaces and elegant villas fanning upwards from the coast, their white towers climbing gracefully into the foothills of the distant mountains.
But Lothern was not simply built around the lagoon; hundreds of artificial islands had been raised within its waters and on these isles rested great palaces, temples and storehouses, forming an intricate network of canals. Statues of the great elven gods ringed the lagoon: Asuryan, Lileath, Kurnous, Isha and many others, but all these creations were dwarfed by the colossi that towered above the city and faced one another across the mouth of the bay. Statues of the Phoenix King and the Everqueen - twin rulers of Ulthuan - two-hundred feet high and carved from the marble of the mountainside by the power of the elven mages, dominated the southern skyline before the Sapphire Gate. Sailors from around the world spoke of their size, and were each story to be believed, then the statues must surely have climbed all the way to heaven.
Thousands of vessels filled the harbour, bobbing gently in the swell. Trading ships of the elven merchants, pleasure barges, and the sleek and deadly eagle-prowed warships of Lord Aislinn's battlefleet.
Dotted amongst the elven ships were vessels from all across the Old World. Since Finubar the Seafarer had persuaded Bel-Hathor to raise the interdict that forbade humans from setting foot on Ulthuan, almost four hundred years ago, trade had flowed into Lothern like never before. Dhows from Araby were tied up next to groaning merchantmen and galleons from Marienburg, who shared berths with clippers from Magritta and long-ships from the Norse, who, after the defeat of Erik Redaxe's fleet, realised that there was more to be gained by trading with the elves of Ulthuan than by trying to raid them.
A thriving city of culture, arts, poetry and trade, Lothern was the cosmopolitan heart of Ulthuan, and home to those elves who considered themselves part of the world rather than those who would see Ulthuan remain in splendid isolation.
Eldain and Caelir walked along the Boulevard of the Phoenix, so named for the current Phoenix King of Ulthuan who hailed from Eataine. They had set sail from Tor Elyr a week ago and passed through the gate of ruby and gold that separated the Inner Sea from Lothern only three days ago. Although both had visited the city before, its glory never failed to stir their hearts.
The boulevard ran the length of the mercantile district of the city and bustled with the activity of traders and shopkeepers, busy haggling with customers in the spirit of good natured banter. Swarthy skinned merchants in elaborate, brightly coloured robes and feathered headdresses waved their arms expansively as they held out bolts of fine silk, and incense sellers wafted their wares into the faces of passers-by.
Food sellers and wine merchants offered delicacies from all across the Old World, promising epicurean delights to satisfy even the most demanding palate.
Caelir stopped to purchase some wine and joked with the merchant that it was the finest wine he had tasted that afternoon. Eldain scowled at his brother when he had done with the merchant and said, 'It is serious business we are on, brother. We have not time to dally.'
'There's always time to enjoy a fine wine, Eldain.'
'And was that fine wine?' asked Eldain.
'No.' admitted Caelir. 'It was Tilean vinegar, but it never hurts to try new things. They say that the wines from the New World are exquisite. I met a trader, recently arrived from the Citadel of Dusk, who promised me a bottle of Lustrian venom wine.'
'Venom wine?' asked Eldain, appalled. 'That sounds utterly vile.'
'I know, but he swears it has a flavour to make the finest Avelorn vintage taste like swill.'
'And you believe him?'
'Of course not, but with a boast like that I simply have to taste it.' laughed Caelir.
Eldain shook his head and said, 'Caelir, I swear you would make a warrior of Tiranoc forget his chariot with your inane babble. Have you forgotten why we are here?'
Caelir shrugged. 'No, I haven't, brother, but we do not set sail for Naggaroth for another three weeks. We have time to enjoy the city a little, do we not?'
'Perhaps.' allowed Eldain, 'but I wish to ensure our expedition has all the supplies it needs before then. There is much that still needs to be done. Food and water to be provisioned, and weapons, armour and arrows need to be bought and stowed aboard our ships. I also need to take father's will to the counting house of Cerion to release the funds we will need. All this takes time and who is going to take responsibility, you?'
Caelir raised his hands before him in mock surrender and said, 'Very well, we'll do it your way, brother. Might we be better splitting up, then, and seeing to separa
te tasks?'
Eldain knew that Caelir was simply looking to get away from him and he found himself not averse to the idea. His brother was already irritating him and they had only been in Lothern for a few days.
'So be it,' he said. 'Take these promissory notes against father's estate and secure us feed for the horses; enough to see us to Naggaroth and back, with two weeks' worth for when we are on land.'
'Feed for the horses,' sighed Caelir. 'Such a glorious task.'
'A necessary one,' reminded Eldain. 'Now be off with you, and I do not want to see you until you have the feed. And get a good price, our funds are not limitless.'
'I know, I know,' said Caelir. 'I'm not a fool, Eldain.'
Eldain struggled to hold his temper at his brother's petulance and simply said, 'Then I will see you back at our lodgings at sunset, yes?'
Caelir did not answer, stalking off through the crowds of traders, and Eldain let out a long, calming breath. He knew all too well that at least one of the promissory notes he had given Caelir would be spent in a wine shop or tailor's boutique, but was too glad of the peace that Caelir's departure brought him to care overmuch.
He closed his eyes and let the bustle of Lothern soothe his spirit, though he knew he must be attracting his fair share of odd looks - standing with his eyes closed in the middle of a busy thoroughfare.
'Eldain?' asked a sweet, female voice. 'Eldain is that you?'
He opened his eyes and his heart lurched to see Rhianna standing before him, a linen covered basket held in the crook of her arm. She wore a simple, high-necked dress of emerald green with golden thread woven in curling patterns at the hem and cuffs, and was as beautiful as he remembered. Unconsciously, his eyes darted to her shoulder where she had been wounded, but the skin was hidden below the fabric of her dress.
Caelir had told Eldain that the fashion this season in Lothern was for risque dresses that exposed the shoulders and a sizeable amount of decolletage, but Rhianna's dress exposed not one inch of skin more than was necessary.
Sensing his scrutiny of her old wound, Rhianna said, 'It still pains me now and then.' 'I'm sorry, Rhianna.' said Eldain, 'I did not mean to-'